


new beginnings

by mellowheart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Flirting, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:17:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13226997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellowheart/pseuds/mellowheart
Summary: Stiles finds himself at Derek's house on New Years' Eve.





	new beginnings

            **Stiles Stilinski spent the eve before the new year** on the sheets of Derek Hale’s bed. For the majority of December 31st, he was under the impression that he’d spend New Year’s Eve by himself, watching Star Wars: Empire Strikes Back for what felt like the millionth time; it was a yearly tradition, and all his friends knew it - Stiles would buy cookie mix, eat all the cookies by himself, and drink soda until it felt like his teeth were about to fall out from all the sugar blanketing his teeth. Perhaps it was hypocritical to scold his father about his eating habits when he really wasn’t any better, but he was eighteen, for God’s sake. He was young. Fresh. Old ladies still shook their canes at him and called him a hooligan, okay? He could make as many bad decisions as he wanted.  
  
            But on that particular night, the Sheriff decided to sleep, figuring that Stiles was smart enough to not do something like flood the house or break all the wine glasses. Which, considering all the shit he’d gotten himself involved in ever since he’d ventured into the supernatural world, probably wasn’t a good idea on his dad’s part; he should be kept on lock and key, but his father was a saint. And he would probably find the key, anyway.

            He was gathering all the ingredients for his chocolate-chip cookies when he opened his refrigerator and realized he didn’t have any eggs. On any other day, this wouldn’t have been a big deal - all he would have to do is grab his wallet and drive to B-Mart, and the crisis would be averted. But apparently a vengeful deity in the skies of Beacon Hills, California had it out for him, because his jobless ass didn’t have a single coin in his billfold. The next step should have been to borrow his father’s credit card, but he didn’t particularly feel like getting murdered before he went to college next year, so he went to more desperate measures.

*  
            Derek got woken up by the persistent buzzing of his phone on the bedside table. Under the impression that it was urgent, he sat up quickly, letting the covers slip from his shoulders to his waist and he reached for his phone. His screen was full of notifications, and if it weren’t for the name attached to the texts, he would have been alarmed.

            **Stiles, 9:32 PM** : _Hey_

            **Stiles, 9:32 PM** : _Heyoooooo_

            **Stiles, 9:33 PM:** _Do you have any eggs, by any chance? Because i like REALLY need them_

            **Stiles, 9:33 PM:** _like now_

            **Stiles, 9:36 PM:** _I figured I’d ask you because your house is closest_

            **Stiles, 9:36 PM:** _And I heard you like cooking_

            For a moment, Derek considered ignoring the texts and going back to sleep, but then he thought about the fact that the boy would hold that against him from January first to the last day of December, and came to the conclusion that answering him would save him from the headache that was Stiles Stilinski’s grudges. All he wants is eggs, he thought ruefully, letting out a deep sigh. Give him the eggs, and you’ll get to sleep.

            **Me, 9:40 PM:** _Come over. I’ll give them to you._   
  
            **Stiles, 9:41 PM:** _Thanks! (and you’re such a cold texter, yeesh - i can feel the blizzard all the way from here, dude)_

*  
            When Derek opened the door, Stiles was bouncing on his toes, his arms crossed in the oversized fabric of his red hoodie. His pajama pants had a plaid pattern - surprise, surprise - and it must have been colder outside than he originally thought, because the tip of the teenager’s upturned nose and the sharp cheekbones that graced his face were tinged with a red flush. The human reminded him of the Disney princesses Cora adored in her childhood, wide eyed and endearing.

            “Hey, sourwolf,” Stiles said by way of greeting, stopping Derek’s thoughts from going down the road of Beauty and the Beast. “Can I come in, or are you gonna be a heartless villain and leave me shivering in the cold?”

            The werewolf rolled his eyes, causing a grin to spread across Stiles’ face, and stepped away from the door. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

            Stiles gave him a salute, taking a few strides inside the house. “Sir, yes, sir.”  
  
            The two went around the staircase in the middle of the loft, the echo of their footsteps and the creak of the floorboards the only sounds in the loft; he noticed the inquisitive way Stiles looked around the place, as if he had never seen it before, or perhaps thought the building was different without the supernatural chaos that always seemed to make its way here. Derek curled his fingers around the golden knob of the door that led to the kitchen, swinging it open and stepping onto the new flooring. The creak of their feet on the wooden flooring transformed into the quieter clack of Stiles’ shoes on the kitchen tile, Derek’s socks making a softer scuff. He walked to the refrigerator, opened it, grabbed the first carton of eggs he saw, and put it in Stiles’ waiting hand with a smack. Derek wanted to make this quick, get the boy out of here before his scent started to get to him; the aroma that exuded from Stiles was sweet and ripe, curling its tantalizing tendrils into the alpha’s nose.

            “Thanks,” Stiles said, holding up the blue carton. It was the first time he’d spoken since they’d greeted each other at the door. Derek had to admit he was impressed that he was able to stay silent for more than five seconds at a time, given that the human went off like a race car no matter who he was conversing with.  
  
            “You’re welcome.”

            The teenager smiled a little and leaned against the kitchen table in the middle of the room, his hip casually jutting out in a way that made Derek grind his teeth together, hating and adoring his ability to appeal to the werewolf’s lustful side - Stiles Stilinski had a loveable way of existing, throwing his thoughts into the air like a bouquet at a wedding, not waiting to see if anybody caught it. The movement of his graceful, prominent collarbone as he inhaled and exhaled was enough to catch the werewolf’s attention, even if Stiles didn’t realize it.

            His pretty lips gaped for a bit, the space between them growing and shrinking as Stiles tried to find the words he wanted to say. “So, um.” He rested the eggs on the table and scratched his jawline, the pads of his fingers tracing over nonexistent stubble. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

            Derek found himself pulling away, prepared to give clipped, to-the-point answers. “No. I’ll be by myself.”

            Stiles took a couple steps closer to the man with a glean of an emotion he’d never seen in the boy before; he didn’t know what it was, but he figured it would be out of place to step back as if the other was diseased - he’d been around humans with sweet scents before, and Stiles was no different. Prettier, sure, but not different. But then Derek felt Stiles’ fingers on his wrist, gentle and soft, and all the thoughts roaming in his head came to a screeching halt. The other, as if sensing Derek’s conflicting emotions, slid his plump lower lip into his mouth, batting his dark eyelashes as it slid back out, the color of his lip turning from a flush red to a debauched pink once it escaped the grip of his teeth; it was slick with a sheen of saliva and the werewolf zeroed in on it, so close to abandoning all the thoughts in his head that told him to not touch. To not bite. To not ruin.

            “You’re lonely, huh?” The human’s voice was husky, smooth as he ran a finger up Derek’s arm, tracing up every bulge of muscle. Derek’s gaze followed it like a starving man chasing after food, shivering from the cool touch.

            His finger curved over his shoulder. “Just a...” Up his neck, pausing over the alpha’s rapid pulse. “...a little bit.”

            Stiles’ hand finally cupped his jaw, and his eyes flickered over Derek’s features; he looked like a doe that had just found it’s first prey, his eyes calculating yet innocent. Then he stood on his toes, his lips running over the older man’s beard as he made his way to his ear; and to Derek’s surprise, he grabbed the cartilage between his teeth, humming when Derek inhaled sharply and letting go just as quickly as he’d grabbed on.

            “How about a New Years’ kiss, then?” Stiles breathed over his ear, and the alpha chose that moment to wrap his fingers around the human’s thin wrist in a tight vice, laughing lightly when he gasped. Derek sucked on the nearest spot on his pale, exposed neck, relishing in the soft moan that escaped his lips.

            This doe had just trotted into a wolf’s den.


End file.
